


Safer at the PD

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20014918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: After Blair has been injured because of|Jim's police work, Jim begins to think Blair would be safer at Rainier; but events prove Blair right when he knows he's safer at the PD





	Safer at the PD

Safer at the PD

by Bluewolf

Blair had been injured - again - in... it couldn't really be called 'the line of duty', because he was simply an observer (although they tended to call him a 'consultant' now, because his ninety day pass as an observer had expired years previously). He had been in the truck - he had even *stayed* in the truck! - but a stray bullet had shattered a window and hit him.

And Jim just knew that the next time he tried to say, "Stay in the truck!" Blair would remind him of this incident and point out that if he hadn't stayed in the truck, but followed Jim, he wouldn't have been shot.

In many ways it was giving Jim a massive dilemma. If he was to work at his most efficient he needed Blair beside him; but his every instinct as a sentinel was to keep his guide safe. And he had begun to think... might the safest place for Blair to be, be his 'office' or the lecture halls at Rainier? He was beginning to think seriously of going to Simon, and asking him to pull Blair's pass, pretending that the Commissioner had finally said 'enough' to an observer's 90-day pass that had lasted for at least 700 days longer than that!

And yet... He had already admitted to himself that he needed Blair beside him if he was to work at his most efficient.

And there was nobody with whom he could discuss this dilemma. Because there were only two people who knew about his senses... though one or two of his fellow detectives might have guessed something. And if he tried to discuss things with Blair or Simon...

Blair himself would say that although he needed to spend time at Rainier because his stipend as a TA was the only money he was earning, as Jim's guide he needed to be beside Jim as much as possible.

Simon would agree with Jim up to a point - but point out how much help Blair was, and not just to Jim. Blair seemed almost incapable of thinking inside the box. How often had an apparently throwaway comment he had made provided the clue that had solved a crime? And... how often had Blair's presence either pulled Jim out of a zone, or prevented him from sinking into one as he concentrated too hard on something he was seeing?

Jim sighed. He would, he decided, leave things as they were for the moment, because there wasn't a simple answer.

***

Blair's injury wasn't as serious as it might have been; the doctor only insisted that he remain in hospital overnight, but told him very firmly that he wasn't cleared for work for at least another week. Blair himself might have ignored that, on the grounds that sitting at a podium lecturing wasn't using up any energy, but Jim put his foot down firmly, and phoned Rainier to tell Blair's Head of Department what the doctor had said.

And so Blair remained at home for a week, using the time to prepare lesson plans and compile a number of pop quizzes to give to his students over the next few weeks. At least it let him put the time to good use; and multiple choice pop quizzes were easy to mark, giving him an extra month or so keeping Jim happy by not sitting grading papers late into the night. He did reckon that if Jim had known he was doing that, rather than just sitting reading or watching TV, the sentinel wouldn't be exactly happy, even though using his brain and typing on his laptop - even with an arm injury - couldn't really be called exerting himself.

After the week had passed he returned to Rainier. He knew that he would have to devote himself full time to his duties at Rainier for probably a month - the Rainier authorities were getting just a little annoyed about the number of absences he had accumulated because of the number of injuries he had suffered while working towards his dissertation.

He knew that Simon was keeping Jim off the street for the moment, having given him a number of fairly high-profile cold cases to work on - there were two in particular that the Mayor was pressuring the Commissioner to re-open, so the Commissioner decided to re-open several others as well. But depending on a number of circumstances, Blair also knew that Jim might very well end up working a new case - or more likely several; and he was beginning to think that they would have to let at least one of Jim's fellow detectives know about the senses, simply because his responsibilities to Rainier kept him from being at Jim's side all the time. Perhaps... Joel?

***

Jim sat reading through the cold case reports, comparing, assessing, noting where there were similarities and where there were differences. He knew that basically this was busy work, though a fresh eye looking at some of these cold cases was sometimes all it needed to solve them. He knew well enough how easy it was to be so immersed in trying to solve a case that something could be overlooked, and he was grateful that none of the cases he was currently checking had originally been the remit of Major Crime.

If he could solve even one of these cases, it would make being tied to a desk worth while.

Half way through the morning of the tenth day into his enforced period of desk duty, Simon's office door was flung open and Simon rushed out. "Jim, come on, I need you!" and he ran on towards the door.

Jim spared a few seconds to shut down his computer, grab his jacket and follow Simon out of Major Crime. Simon was already holding the elevator.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked as he entered the elevator.

Simon allowed the door to close and pressed the button for the garage. "There's been an incident at Rainier. I think... I think Sandburg's involved."

"What? How - ?"

"It was a very quick phone call from Suzanne Tomaki - 'Captain, we've reported it officially, but I need to let you know - there's been a shooting in a classroom here, and Ellison needs to come,' and she hung up before I could ask her anything more. And Jim - I'm driving!"

The elevator opened and both men ran for Simon's car. Jim did think he could drive to Rainier faster, but didn't want to waste time arguing. He needed to get to Blair!

And, indeed, Simon didn't seem inclined to waste any time. Jim was still fumbling to fasten his seat belt - slowed by the unfamiliarity of being in the passenger seat and having to use the wrong hand - when the car started moving.

And even Jim had to concede that it was unlikely he could have reached Rainier any faster.

There were already several Patrol cars there, and ambulances - God, how many ambulances?

Simon screeched to a halt and both men jumped out and ran forward. The first Patrol officer they reached held up a hand. "You can't - Oh! Captain Banks! Go on through."

"Bad?" Simon paused to ask.

"Worse than bad." He sounded very shaken.

Simon glanced at Jim and they ran on, up the steps and into Hargrove Hall. Another Patrol officer was stationed there, but he knew that since the two had come in, it had already been authorized by the officer outside. Simon hesitated for a second, but Jim had already stepped forward. "Where?"

The officer pointed to the stairs. "One story up and turn left."

They headed up the stairs. Just at the top they met two EMTs carrying a stretcher, and despite their anxiety to get to the room involved, they stood to one side to let the men pass. Once the corridor was clear, they ran on, having to pause again as another two stretchers were carried past.

There was no mistaking the room. Quite apart from the Patrol officer they could see standing at a doorway, there was a hubbub of noise, and from the doorway, once they reached it, they could see there was a hive of activity inside.

They paused beside the officer. "Cap'n Banks," the man acknowledged.

"What happened?" Simon asked as Jim hesitated, clearly - to Simon's eyes - searching for Blair.

"This was Blair's 101 class." Simon nodded, not surprised that the Patrol officer knew Blair well enough to call him by his first name. "They were in the middle of a lecture, when the door opened and this guy came in with a gun. Apparently he had been one of the class, but after the first three or four times hadn't shown up for lectures. Eventually Blair had reported him to the university authorities; he was called in for a meeting with Dr. Oldham, the head of the anthropology department. Someone said he'd slammed out of Oldham's office, and that was the last anyone had seen of him.

"Why he apparently objected so strongly to whatever Oldham said to him is anyone's guess. The witnesses said he yelled, 'Y'all think you're better'n me? I'm gonna blow all you ass-kissin' losers to hell!' and opened fire. It was almost as if he resented the students more than the lecturer who reported him for skipping lectures. The students furthest from where he was pointing his gun dropped to the floor and mostly escaped unhurt; for some reason he hadn't been aiming towards Blair, who made a run for him and tried to take him down. That was when he was shot. And then the guy turned the gun on himself."

By then Jim had moved into the room and was heading unhesitatingly for where Blair was lying, being tended by one of the EMTs.

Jim recognized the man instantly. "Dave! How is Blair?"

"Not good," Dave said unhappily. "And he made us promise to get the injured students to hospital before him, refusing any attention till we promised, but he needs more skilled attention than I can give him... and seriously, most of the injured students aren't as badly hurt."

"I didn't give him that promise," Jim said. "So I can move him... Let's get him onto a stretcher."

Dave helped Jim move Blair onto a stretcher, then Jim called, "Simon!"

Simon hurried over. Jim explained the situation, said, "We didn't promise anything, so let's get him down to an ambulance."

Simon nodded, and took one end of the stretcher. Dave led them out and over to his ambulance. Once Blair was safely fastened into it, Jim took a seat beside him, Simon swung out and headed back to the lecture room, while Dave got behind the wheel and headed for Cascade General.

Three orderlies headed for the ambulance the moment it stopped. "From the Rainier shooting," Dave said as Jim swung out of the ambulance behind the two who had collected the stretcher and carefully slid Blair onto a gurney. Behind him, he heard Dave telling the third one about Blair's injuries, then the ambulance started up, presumably heading back to Rainier. The third orderly caught up. "This one needs to go straight to a surgeon - or as straight as possible," he said. He glanced at Jim. "This is the eighth one to arrive, and from what Dave said there are a few more to come, though none of them are too bad," he said. "But for some reason, the seven in front of this one weren't as badly hurt as he is. I'd have expected him to have been sent here first."

"This is the class lecturer," Jim said. "He was actually shot when he tried to stop the shooter - and before he lost consciousness, Dave said he made the EMTs promise to get the students seen to first... but I didn't make that promise; I'm a cop. Two of us carried the stretcher to the ambulance, and all we'll tell Blair is that the driver just knew he had a patient on a stretcher from the shooting to get to the hospital."

"Did you get the guy who did the shooting?"

"The witnesses said he killed himself," Jim said as the orderlies wheeled the gurney into the theater waiting area. The man nodded, and walked over to the orderlies sitting beside another gurney.

Jim didn't bother listening to what he said, knowing it would simply be a repeat of 'The man just brought in needs to be seen first'. He knelt on the floor beside Blair and took his hand, looking up at the orderly. "He was shot a little less than a month ago - a not-too-serious arm wound," he said. "but this, so soon after that other time - "

The man shook his head. "He doesn't have a hobby of providing a target for gunmen, by any chance?"

Jim gave a wry smile, recognizing the black humor for what it was as he turned his attention back to his guide.

Blair's last injury had been too recent, and he wasn't totally recovered from it. The additional shock to his system... this injury - no, these injuries - so soon after that other one... and these injuries were so much worse than that last one had been... and Blair had suffered these at Rainier, where Jim had been so certain his friend would be safe...

Now he was wondering if he shouldn't encourage Blair to quit Rainier, and instead suggest that he go to the police academy, train to be a cop and apply for a position with Major Crime.

***

The next few hours were a nightmare for the worried sentinel. Blair was collected by the theater staff and taken to have at least one bullet removed and his other injuries dealt with, and all Jim could do was pace the waiting room (annoying the other relatives waiting for word on their children - not as many as there might have been because a lot of the injured students were from outside Cascade) until Simon arrived and forced him to sit down.

There were, in total, twenty-three injured in the shooting, two of them with only superficial flesh wounds, twenty with varying degrees of more serious injury, and only - only! - one, Blair, really badly injured.

The gunman, Rupert Madison, had successfully killed himself.

Rainier had supplied the PD with Madison's home address, but there had as yet been no word from the officers who had gone to check it. Of course, if the man lived alone, there would be nobody to answer.

But the whole set-up seemed odd. Madison had enrolled at Rainier, only attended two or three lectures, was possibly asked to leave because of that, and then apparently decided to take his revenge by shooting the other students in what had been his class as 'ass-kissing' - because they were doing well? - 'losers' - because they were falling in with what the university wanted of its students rather than 'thinking for themselves'? - and ignoring the lecturer until he tried to stop the mayhem.

Jim could have understood it if Madison had been attending lectures regularly, trying hard, but failing and resenting the other students who were doing better than he was. He could have understood it if Madison had been top of the class, and resented the others for taking Blair's attention from him, feeling that he could do even better if the lecturer hadn't had to waste time on 'less deserving' students - if they had indeed been the 'losers' he had called them.

But from what Jim had heard, it was Madison who was the loser. The man had to have been totally unbalanced...

The door opened and Joel came in. He glanced around, and crossed to Jim and Simon.

"We got a reply at the Madison house," Joel said quietly.

"And?" Jim asked.

"The man lived with his parents," Joel went on. "I spoke to them; and their response to hearing what he'd done... They'd wondered, when he was a child, if he was autistic, and had him checked, but the medical consensus was that he wasn't. The doctors said that he was self-centered, lazy, resentful of any attempt to make him do anything he didn't want to do. The parents had home-schooled him, dealing as best they could with what they could only call temper tantrums. And they insisted that they had never spoiled him, even when he was a toddler.

"They had wondered if sending him to Rainier might encourage him to mix with others, learn some self-discipline... but after two or three weeks he refused to go back. Basically, he expected his parents to support him all his life. He didn't have any hobbies. All he wanted to do was sit and watch TV - didn't matter what was on.

"Finally, his father totally lost patience with him, told him he should be taking the chances he had been given like all the rest of his Rainier classmates had done... and that he had changed his will so that Rupert would inherit nothing when his parents died. He would have nothing so he would have to work.

"He slammed out of the house in a temper... I rather got the impression that although he regretted the shooting, Madison senior was almost glad that his son was dead."

"They insisted they never spoiled him," Jim muttered. "But something had to have made him lazy and self-centered."

"There are different kinds of spoiling," Joel agreed. "If the mother had done pretty well everything for him when he was very young, without the father's knowledge... or if he was refused everything he ever actually wanted, on the grounds that that would be spoiling him, he could have resented being expected to do what his parents said."

Simon nodded. "You hear of kids who were never toilet-trained and who are still wearing diapers when they're nine or ten," he said. "Kids who are still being breast-fed at that age. They have to be aware of something... of feeling that they're somehow 'special', at least to their parents. Of feeling that their parents will always be here, always look after them... That's a kind of spoiling."

"Yes," Joel agreed. "In a way, I feel sorry for the guy. He must have known that something was wrong in his life, must have been aware that his father, at least, probably didn't like him... "

"And resented the hell out of anyone who had adult approval," Jim said.

"Detective Ellison!" They were interrupted by a nurse - one Jim didn't recognize.

Jim swung around. "That's me." His voice shook slightly.

"Mr. Sandburg made it through surgery very well, and he's resting in ICU. The doctor says you can go and see him for a minute."

Jim closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Thanks," he managed, and followed the nurse - Anita, according to her name badge - out of the room. Behind him, he could hear voices - "Sandburg? That's the lecturer, right?" "He was shot too?" and Simon's reply - "Yes, and he was worse injured than anyone else - and he made the paramedics promise to deal with the students first, but when we got there... " Jim closed his ears to the voices, concentrating on what the nurse was saying.

"... the doctor went straight on to dealing with another patient, so you just have to put up with what I know. The worst injury was actually to his shoulder; the bullet had to be surgically removed. He'll have to wear a sling for two or three weeks, and from what one of the other nurses said, persuading him to do that'll be like persuading a kangaroo to walk instead of hopping."

Jim grinned. "He'll wear it," he promised. "And he'll take whatever pills are prescribed, too."

"I see you know him well - but of course you do, you're listed as his next of kin after his mother, and more likely to be available."

"Yes. His mother... More than half the time he doesn't know where she is, how to get hold of her... "

"That has to be tough," Anita said.

"It's been a factor of his life since he went to Rainier when he was sixteen," Jim replied. "And while he's twenty-nine now, since he went to Rainier he's mostly had to depend on himself.

"I met him about three years ago... he moved into my spare room about a month after that, and we've become very close. And in that time, I think he's seen his mother twice."

"So for about ten years he had nobody to insist that if he had to go to a doctor he should do what the doctor told him?" she asked.

"Not as simple as that. His mother is totally into 'natural' medicine - use herbal, and avoid western. She brought Blair up to that belief... and his studies at Rainier pretty well backed up that teaching. He's been hurt once or twice during the time I've known him, and he's always looked for a herbal cure before depending on a western one. It's been a bit of a fight persuading him that an antibiotic is better and faster than an infusion of some herb. But I usually win."

Anita chuckled. "He's in here. Odds are he's asleep, and if he is - "

"I won't try to waken him. How long can I stay with him?"

"Not more than a couple of minutes, I'm afraid."

Jim nodded. That would be long enough for him to do a quick check and satisfy himself about Blair's condition.

***

Blair was moved to a room the next day, and although he begged to be allowed home the doctors (backed by Jim) insisted that he stay in the hospital for at least another two days. However, the doctors were quite happy to allow Jim to stay with him for far longer than the accepted visiting hours; they had seen that both Blair and Jim relaxed more and recovered better if the other was there. They had no idea why that was, but they weren't going to argue, or try to stop something that worked.

Someone had provided a very comfortable chair, and Jim settled down in it. Blair blinked sleepily at him. "Do I really have to stay here for two more days?" he muttered.

"Chief, you were very badly hurt," Jim said, "and it wasn't helped by what you considered your responsibility to your students. You were far worse hurt than any of them, and you lost a lot of blood."

"And Madison?"

"After he shot you, he killed himself. He lived with his parents, and Joel said his father seemed almost glad he was dead."

"God. That couldn't have been easy for him - "

"Don't waste your sympathy, Chief. From what the father said, he'd always been difficult, always resented being expected to do anything he was told. Expected to live off his parents all his life. Eventually his father told him he would get nothing when they died, so he'd better learn how to work - and that was when he got hold of a gun and went to Rainier. Killing himself was probably the first unselfish thing he ever did in his life."

"So when he was young his parents spoiled him - "

"They said they hadn't. They'd thought he might be autistic, but he tested - well, normal. There just seemed to be that quirk in his nature that made him refuse to do anything, made him expect his parents to support him all his life... "

Blair was silent for a moment, then he said, "Psychologists do say that nature is more important than nurture when it comes to how some people behave... But I don't think anyone has any suggestions as to why some people do the very opposite of what they're taught... "

"Like the way we can get criminals from seriously law-abiding families," Jim agreed. "Or the opposite... the way you've ended up working with 'the pigs' despite all Naomi's 'jackbooted thugs' teaching."

"I don't even really know why she's that way," Blair said. "She did go in for protests when she was younger, but they were always peaceful ones - I mean, you hear of protests where the protesters are pretty violent, but Naomi was always more in the way of protests were everyone just sat quietly, getting in the way of people they felt were damaging the environment. Yes, sometimes the police were involved, but they were just doing their job... though Naomi did tend to feel that 'their job' involved backing up the rich and powerful who were looking to make more and more money out of exploiting the environment. And yes, she and her friends were arrested more than once... but none of them were ever hurt that I know of."

He was beginning to sound more and more sleepy, and Jim put a gentle hand on his uninjured arm. "Stop fighting it and just go back to sleep," he said quietly.

"Stay?"

"As long as they let me," Jim promised.

Blair smiled as his eyes closed.

***

It was actually three days before Blair was allowed home. He muttered about it, about the cost of being kept in hospital (even though his insurance covered most of it) and it was only Jim's presence at his side that kept him from signing out AMA.

And he was more than embarrassed by the visits he had during those days from his students and the parents of the ones who had been hurt - their discovery that he had been injured so badly, but still expected the students (none of whom had been kept in more than overnight) to get attention first, had impressed all the parents.

And that, Jim decided, could only be to Blair's advantage.

***

They had a Chinese takeaway for dinner, the evening Blair was allowed home. It meant no cooking, and minimal washing up afterwards.

As they settled in front of the TV, Blair said, "Something's worrying you."

Jim sighed. "It's just... When you were hurt last month, I began to think that you'd be safer at Rainier than following me - I mean how often have you been hurt or in some sort of danger because of my job? I'd begun to think of getting Simon to pull your pass on the grounds that it was a ninety-day observer's pass that looked like going on for ninety years."

"Hardly years," Blair said. "Months, maybe."

"But I can't deny that I need you. I need you beside me if I'm to work at my best. You keep me grounded so I can use my senses safely. And often you say something that helps solve a crime, not just for me but for everyone. So I didn't say anything. The last thing I expected was for you to be so badly hurt at Rainier."

"Jim, basically I'm safer at the PD. You'd be surprised how often Rainier staff - fully tenured professors as well as TAs - are threatened by students. Usually it's sports jocks who resent having to take some academic subjects - some of them can't see past a career in sport, often think anything else is a total waste of time, and resent it when we expect them to work and don't automatically give them an A for just writing their name on an exam paper. Not many of them understand that there are far more would-be sportsmen than there are professional positions for, far more retired sportsmen than there are coaching or managerial positions for; not many understand that an injury could leave them able to function well enough in 'ordinary' life but not able to cope with the demands of a professional game. Heck, I doubt Earl Gaines ever expected to end up not able to cope with the stress of a pro game, but at least he was philosophic about it.

"But at least most of them are willing to train, to work at their chosen sport. Madison didn't want to do anything at all - at least that was the impression I got."

"It was the impression Joel got too when he spoke to the parents - well, the father. Spent his days watching TV. He seemed to expect to live off his parents all his life."

"Must have been a very boring life," Blair muttered. "In a way it's why a lot of older people who retire don't live long - they never had any interests outside their work, so don't have anything to keep their minds occupied. They die of boredom."

Jim chuckled. "Well, we know that'll never happen to you!"

"There aren't enough hours in the day," Blair agreed. "It's unlikely to happen to you, either - even when you're too old to go hiking, you'll still want to go fishing... and in bad weather you'll catch up on some of the books you haven't had the chance to read yet."

"I doubt I'll ever catch up on those," Jim laughed. "But it gives me something to aim for."

"And you could always write your memoirs - 'Life With a Nagging Guide'."

"While you write 'Life with a Stubborn Sentinel'?"

"Wonder which one would make the best seller list?" Blair wondered.

"Yours," Jim said. "I'm just an unimaginative cop. You're the one with the gift for words."

"Then we'll do a joint book - 'A Symbiotic Relationship'."

"Yes," Jim agreed. "Whatever else we have, we have that. A symbiotic relationship."

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks, as always, to Nat for her fast betaing and her unending patience with my British spelling.


End file.
